They had more in common with bands like Beat Happening and Built to Spill than they did with the emo or sellout bands of the area - BH and BTS also have that way of making everything sound new and honest, especially lyrically, like the excitement of someone learning how to play an instrument - pouring their heart into it, hearing only their own potential and beauty shine through, no matter how it really sounds or what people think of it. Lync was like the annoying little cousin of those two, taking that innocence and hiding it in some anger and a little schizophrenia. They could sound like the aural equivalent of a drunken brawl, but you could still hear that they were having fun and smiling underneath the noise and feedback.

I hadn't heard of Lync until after they'd broken up, but I still remember when I first heard "Cue Cards" and "Clay Fighter" (from the These Are Not Fall Colors LP) on a friend's radio show like it was a rite of passage. It was, to an extent. I hadn't quite grasped the DIY ethic, it never meant much to me. But hearing Lync changed the way I thought about it. They did this because it was like they needed to, not to please anyone else. It sounded like what I imagine someone would want to sound like once they were diagnosed with a terminal disease and three days to live. Pure, immature but not really childish, loud, and with no secrets or agenda. This is what punk rock could've been if it didn't hide behind all that leather and/or conceit.